Elephants Eat Peanuts...

The biggest steelhead of my life ate a bug just like this.  Over 40 inches, it damn near ripped the rod out of my hands by eating a bug that was, in comparison, like an elephant eating a peanut

When we first began this journey of fly fishing for steelhead, I assumed that everything needed to be big and bold.  Full of flash and substance.

Attach a chicken to a hook and hold on, like it needed to be the neon buffet sign to get them to eat it.

How wrong I was.

The truth is now during dryline season, through learning and trial, I force myself to try sparser and smaller flies.  Flies that you'd look at and say...."no way"

Sure, they're going to eat the big bugs but it's more exciting when an elephant eats a peanut.

Left Handed Cousins In The Hatchery Tank...

A new study out of Oregon State University is out there's some interesting news

take this headline...

"DNA evidence shows that salmon hatcheries cause substantial, rapid genetic changes"

and..

"The research, published today in Nature Communications, found that after one generation of hatchery culture, the offspring of wild fish and first-generation hatchery fish differed in the activity of more than 700 genes"

Read the article, it's a doozy.  

To The Last Swing...

OMR had already reeled up and was sitting on the bank waiting for me to throw in the towel.

Just one more cast.  And then another.  And maybe five or so more.

It's incredibly hard to leave good water un-fished even as the last fading rays of sun were disappearing over the canyon rim.

Fine, one more cast.

Each cast is an offering of hope.  You hold out hope each time that the line hits the water but really when it's down to the last few seconds of the day,  the hope counter is down as far as it can go.

I put the mend in the cast, said here we go.  Simple math says the day was almost finished.

The fish picked up the bug in the last 5 feet of the swing and off she went.   OMR sat on the bank repeatedly saying, "No way, No Way NOOOOOOO way"

I was about as shocked as my father.  A perfect ending to a great day on the water that will only stoke the fire for the next day out.

Olympic Peninsula Wild Steelhead Action Alert

Olympic Peninsula Wild Steelhead Action Alert from North Fork Studios on Vimeo.



3 moderate rule changes are up for debate about how we fish on the Olympic Peninsula

There are other factors beyond sport fishing that are creating larger impact, but what control do we have over nets? Lets do what we can do and get on the bus with these three potential rule changes.

Get more info and submit your comments by November 12th by clicking HERE.

Lets say you're a steelheader.

Lets also say you're a bird hunter.

And further down the line, you combine those two items at the the fly tying vice.

Boom, the combo works.   Turns out Blue Grouse makes a hell of a wing on a steelhead fly.

When Your Number Is Called...

When the fish picked up the fly, it was a subtle tip tap....and thump.

Something was up, it wasnt doing what a steelhead normally does, that first initial surge wasnt there. It casually took it's time and took a pile of line with it out to the middle of the river and just sat there and wallowed.

If I was a betting man, I would have bet the house that this was a chinook.   I couldnt move it and when I did, it just went right back in the middle of the current and gave me the middle fin.

10 pound test maxima has it's limits, and the amount of pressure I put on the fish to check it's surges and runs was about there.  Still the thing was, it was a chinook.  Unintended bi-catch that while cool, it wasn't the intended quarry.

My fishing partners began to lament the time it was taking me to land this fish.  "Put the nuts to em" "Come on, get it did already"  We shared the same feeling that this was a salmon so no real pressure was felt.

Until it came in a little closer, rolled and the red strip of a massive B-Run buck indicated to us we had ourselves a full on level 10 situation.  A full on 2 foot jump confirmed that this was no salmon

When you have to that point the fish of your life on the line, things get a little...um, tight.    The talking got all type of serious and you could feel the pressure in the air.

Three times the buck came in to the shallows and appeared ready to be tailed, only to run out to the middle to sulk again.  I was ready for the hook to pull, as a fish like this doesnt give up the goods easily

Finally, head up on top sliding to the shore OMR grabbed it's tail and we all stood there speechless

It was a true giant of the species.

After a quick revival, we sent him on his way.  When your numbers called, enjoy it, and put it away in the memory bank to light up your days for years to come.

The FayClave Returns...

Has it really been five years?  This weekend commences the 5th annual Fay Clave in, this time in honor of OMR's 75th birthday.

Again we'll be on the lower Clearwater in hopes of meeting a few fish, and celebrating a guy who keeps on trucking, paying no attention to creaky bones and hearing loss.

What excites me the most is the quick and deep progression into steelhead rabbit hole we have all fallen.  We picked up the spey rods 6 years ago with nary a clue.  Now look at us and we're full on steelhead dirtbags.

So if you're on the river this weekend, come share a story and a beer.  We'll be happy to have you.

From Vice To Fish...

Photo Credit--Jedi Chou.

The text comes in an instantly I am jacked.

The fly didnt last 5 minutes before getting wrecked!  Oh and BTW, your fly caught this fish behind a bait and a hardware guy

You never really know if a a vice creation has the juice.  It may say yes in hand, but something changes on the water and it just doesn't get the job done.

Its an eye opener when this was the first fly that came through after more "effective" techniques came through the pool and were blanked.   You dont expect a fly, let alone a skater , to get smashed after the egg and spoon rides through guns blazing.

Boom.  The data backs up the theory.  Now back to the vice to make more to send out to other beta testers to gather more data.

The Smolt Juke...

Here we are yet again, staring at dam counts and wishing this year's run of steelhead would hurry up and get here.

Sitting in the first run of the day, expectations were high.  "It only takes one" we jokingly repeated to each other knowing that really we were searching for needles in a gigantic haystack.

You can only stare at your line as it swings through the current until you start seeing and feeling things.

"Was that a bulge under my fly?"  "Yes, that was a tap on the bug, yes!"

Really nothing's happening.  I am just wishing it was.

But then you get the familiar tap, tap, tap of a fish tracking the bug.  Yes....be it, be it!

Fish for steelhead long enough and you'll understand quickly that you cant judge the fish by the size of a rise or pull on the bug.  Every single one is so varied that you have to just let it play out.

Back on the hunt, and the taps continue through mid swing.  In the last bit of arc I dropped my loop and waited the impossible 2 seconds before I lifted the rod.

The 10 inch smolt rocked out of the water just like it's much bigger cousins would do later in the year.    You have to laugh at and also respect a fish that can gives it their all, even though it's much, much, much smaller than you would have hoped.

6 times it jumped as it completed its full on juke of my emotions and 4 more times that exact scenario played out on our first trip of the year.

Thanks for the emotional roller coaster, I appreciate it.

When The Gas Light Goes On.

It was a classic "get to excited and forget to" moment.

For months we've been looking forward to the first steelhead trip of the year.  The night before I had the truck packed....rods, reels, food, beer, and about a billion flies.  I met my buddy at the designated spot at 4am and we were jacked to hit the road.

Speaking of that road.  It winds through Palouse country and at 4am, lets just say there's not a lot of services available.  I looked down and checked my speed and oh sheet....the gas light is on.

A quick gage check tells me I have 12 miles of fuel left and about 20 miles to the next known gas station.  Nothing like being an idiot, forgetting to buy gas to seriously delay your first day on the river

We were almost to a half horse town my buddy and I had passed a million times over the years but both though there wasnt a gas station.

Oh what the hell, lets check it out.

As suspected, the fill up station didnt have a card lock and wouldnt be open for hours.  After a few choice words by myself, we pressed on through town to the highway reconnect...

I see another gas station that looked like it was from 1955 and dejectedly I drove buy it but holy out of no where does my buddy see a ancient debit card lock on the pump.

Saved in a half horse town by what maybe the first 24 hour filling station in the history of humans.

Shoot, even the pump had the gallon and price counter on the rolling numbers.  It was awesome

Needless to say, we thanked our lucky stars and continued on with our trip, laughing at our luck.

Steelhead Changeover....

All tippets, gone and put away.

Lightening bugs, hares ears, pats stones, pmds, chubby chernobyls, caddis....bye bye

Shhhhhhhh, 9 foot tapered leaders, Lamson 1.5 and 2s.  Night night chronomids and seal buggers.

Happy resting thingamabobbers and lanyards.  See you all in April 2016.

Oh hey, how you doing Hardy?

Welcome back scandi and skagit.  We've missed you.

Ska-Oppers, Muddlers, traditionals.  Hells yes

Maxima, glorious maxima.  I love you in all your 8, 10 and 12 pound varieties

Amnesia, polyleaders, even big winter swing bugs.  Come on down.

Game over trout.  Game on Steelhead.

Blast From Conservation's Past

Down in a dusty basement of a second hand book store, I found this gem of steelhead conservation's past

The book, Fly Fishing for Steelhead was written in 1982 by Bill Stinson, was more of a how to guide but you can see that even back then people understood that there was trouble on the horizon.

Asking around through the network of steelheaders I know, this poster was first used in the early 80's on the Washougal and Wind Rivers in SW Washington and created by Bill McMillian, Clark Skamania Fly Fishers and WDFW.

It must have been so counter culture to stick your neck out and promote conservation like this back then.    Good on them for starting the fight.

Blocked By Concrete...

Mountains of concrete block their way.   No passage, no quarter, firm isolation.

The wild redband rainbows of Eastern Washington are steelhead of the landlocked variety.  I can feel it in every ounce of their power when we tussle for time to time.

So I dream about what could have been with adequate fish passage.   I have a feeling it could have been amazing.

Nothing's perfect.  It's a dream of a problem that has no good solution.  We've done a great job at screwing up perfection but who knows what the next 50 years brings.

It could be great.

Wrapping Hairwings...

Lets temper ourselves with the realization that steelhead eat gobs of eggs, diver plugs, beads and oh yes....pink bass worms.

But on the converse, they also eat some of the most beautiful hand tied creations that can pass as works of art.

Traditional steelhead hairwings are so damn cool, and so damn effective.

My work on the vice is far from that, but the journey of getting better gives me something to shoot for.    Like the junior high kid who plays pickup basketball with the high schoolers, I have been fortunate to become friends with some of the best bug wrappers who challenge me to up my game

I cant thank them enough.

You can only go so far on your own.    That's why I love this sport so much, the best are so willing to help.

Wire For Steel...

Some metal for metal?  You bet.

Bugs like these are soon to be available at Emerald Water Anglers in Seattle.

Get some.

#PhatSeries Bugs

I have to tell what, when I first saw these steelhead bugs I said....meh, no way.

Drop shot hooks on a dryline?  Yeah right.

Then I started fishing them...

They crush.    That is all.

I cannot take credit for these bugs in any way, as I first saw these off the vice of the legendary Leland Miyawaki of Orvis in Bellevue

Give them a shot.  The strikes are nothing short of savage.

Mr Rabbit Out of Hat....

It's not even weird anymore, you just come to expect it.

On the days when catching is at a premium, OMR goes all magician and catches the only steelhead of the day

As our season draws to a close, this day on the water was likely my last day for this run of fish.  I had two come unpinned earlier in the day and our buddy landed a monster bull trout that made his day, but alas none of the targeted quarry had come to hand

So to the last run of the day, and it was no surprise that Mr Houdini absolutely picks my pocket and brought this lady to hand.  I'm not even mad or surprised, I just smile and know that some dudes just have more juice than others

Thankfully, that dude's my dad.

Guest Post-Heather's First Swung Steel

The text came through last weekend and you could feel the happiness in the message

"It happened, my first steelhead on the swing"

An that person is Heather Hodson, friend and super enthusiastic creator and leader of
Spokane Women on the Fly.    Heather's group is doing a tremendous job of creating a sisterhood on the fly and making it easier for ladies to get into fly fishing.  They're breaking down barriers and making it fun and easy for women who are interested but dont know where to start. Lets be honest, if you're on the outside looking in, man or women, fly fishing can look pretty intimidating to a novice.

Well Heather and her boyfriend Britton have snagged the steelhead bug pretty bad, and now that she has found that elusive first pull....they're pretty much screwed!   Here's Heather to share her experience of her first steelhead on the swing.


It was my last chance at getting the job done this season. As I was driving down to the Big River, I was envisioning what the tug will truly feel like. I’ve heard that there’s nothing like catching a steelhead on the swing . I was ready to have the adrenaline pump through my veins and feel what the hype is all about.

Our first stop was more of a two handed casting clinic for me. This is my first year Spey fishing. I can count the number of times that I’ve swung on one hand. Needless to say, I need a lot of practice! After I started to feel a little more comfortable with the Snap-T cast we decided to go to a different run.

As I started to wade out into the run, I started to question if steelheading was for me? My hands were freezing, the 24,000cfs river was roaring and deep, the large rocks that I had to maneuver through was difficult for my vertically challenged 5’ 2” self. Then it happened……

Literally my fourth (not beautiful) cast and then I felt it. There was no doubt that I had a decent steelhead on the other end of my line. At first I was dumb founded. I couldn’t believe that such an awful cast could catch a fish! Then the fight was on. Despite the cold January temps of the river this fish was not ready to be caught. My line kept going and going. I cranked my drag down and landed a beautiful bright hatchery hen. The best part of it was I caught her on my first Steelhead swinging fly that I have ever tied. Such a great feeling to catch a big beautiful steelhead on the swing, but even better when it’s on a fly that you’ve twisted up!

As if I wasn't already hooked, now I can’t wait to get my hand on a spey rod and continue to master the art of this type of fly fishing. One day, I too will be the flyfisher that makes people stop and watch the beauty of spey casting.

So ladies, if you're interested in meeting a super awesome group of women and get into the sport, please get in contact with Heather.

Check out more info from Spokane Women on the Fly via their FACEBOOK PAGE

Chocolate Milk Steel...

The USGS graph went nuts the night before on the tributary of the big river and we all knew what we were going to see when we got to the river.

Chocolate Milk.

There's levels of clarity, and this was upper end stuff.  Maybe 6 inches of visibility, meaning we had to get above the trib to find runs to swing a bug with the hopes of finding a fish or two.

Non the less, stubbornly we decided to at least wader up at one of our favorite winter runs and give it a shot.  We all shook our heads when stepping into the water because the likelihood of swinging a fish in this crap was about as good as the Seahawks comeback last Sunday

Well, never say never.

My buddy took honors to go through first as he was riding a solid cold streak.  Stripping out maybe half of his skagit head, he rolled it out MAYBE 15 feet and out of habit, threw a mend in the tiny cast

In the process of turning around to talk to me he got blown up.

We started laughing because of the absolute improbability of what just happened.  It's hard to express how much the river looked like flowing chocolate milk.  Still, the fish ate.

It was a typical hatchery male that fought well for it's size but succumbed to the rock shampoo at the end of the fight.

So it just goes to show, you can still find a fish in the middle of chocolate milk.

Getting Bested By The Best...

The day started on another river in another state.  A fast rising hydrograph made us question whether this was the place we should be fishing.  As you other fishermen of anadromous fish know, once doubt sets it, move to option B.

Conditions were perfect with dropping water levels and consistent water temperature.   Game on.

Into the second run, a fish slammed my bug mid swing and gave me a hell of a battle.    It was a very, very nice buck that went into the early teens.  They're aren't many fish bigger than this one in the whole realm of inland steelhead, so I was more than pleased as it swam away and the flask was passed around in celebration of good fortune.

The day continued with the swing and step routine from run to run  and into  the closing hour of the last piece of water.    That's when OMR pulled the rabbit, or should I say whale out of his top hat.

The dude knows how to fight a fish, and this one kicked his ass.  In seeing the initial hook up and watching my dad's face, I knew this was a big, big fish.    Most of the time, you can get one of these summer runs in within 5 minutes, but this battle stretched all of 15 minutes and every time the fish wallowed or it's tail came up all we could say were things like

Holy Shit.  F----K.  Oh. My. God.

After 5-6 big runs and numerous short scraps, the fish of a lifetime came to hand

It was a miracle the fish was landed, the hook on the prom dress just fell out.  Fell. Out.

A few pics and the massive buck went back on it's journey. All three of us sat there a bit stunned at what just happened.  Bested by the best, with the best fish I have ever had the pleasure to see in person.  So very wild and in perfect shape.

OMR reeled up and found a great sitting rock to enjoy the rest of the fading light.  No point in casting again on this day, he found his fish of a lifetime.